


Five Times Winona Kirk Took Care of her Son, and One Time He Took Care of Her

by merisunshine36



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-08
Updated: 2010-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merisunshine36/pseuds/merisunshine36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether he's in Riverside, Iowa or the Mutara Nebula, Winona Kirk always looks out for her boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Winona Kirk Took Care of her Son, and One Time He Took Care of Her

**Author's Note:**

> This story combines plot elements from the reboot as well as the movies ST:III and IV from the TOS series.  
> Disclaimer: Star Trek and the characters in this story are the property of Paramount and Gene Roddenberry. I will make no money from this little creative venture.

**one**

Jimmy was a fussy baby. After spending the first nine months of his existence with the clicks, whistles, rumbles and groans of the _Kelvin_, the relative quiet of the Iowa evenings upset him. She had tried everything. Warm milk, the holovision, the hovercar, the sonic shower, singing—the singing had only made him scream even louder.

Desperate, her own grey eyes red and teary, she strapped the carseat into the back of that antique groundcar that George had loved so much and took the vehicle up and down the dusty roads. Jimmy fell asleep almost immediately.

  
**two  
**  
When Admiral Winona Kirk returned home from her post overseeing the establishment of a new research station in orbit around Rigel III, everything was in a shambles. Frank and Jimmy were in the middle of a screaming match because her twelve-year old son had decided it would be a good idea to take apart the comm terminal and find out what made it tick. Frank's hand was clinched so tight around Jimmy's skinny arm that it was beginning to bruise. Sam had locked himself in his room, music turned up as loud as it could go.

In short order, she handed Frank a suitcase and ordered him to start packing, coaxed Sam out of his room, and set him and Jimmy to fixing the comm while she whipped up some dinner with the rudimentary cooking skills she had managed to hold on to after fifteen years of Starfleet cafeteria fare.

Once the boys were fed, washed, and sound asleep, she pulled out her padd and began composing her letter of resignation from Starfleet.

  
**three  
**  
It was the third time she had posted bail for Jim this year. Everyone at the police station knew her by now, and she stopped to chat for a moment with the officer on duty about how Starfleet had convinced Iowa State’s star quarterback to transfer out.

The charge was breaking and entering this time. Jim’s excuse had been that it was an alarm system he'd never seen before, and so he thought he'd try and dismantle it for fun.

Even though she was stuck dirtside now, she stayed abreast of Fleet scuttlebutt as best she could. What else was she to do, stuck out here in the middle of Iowa of all places? So when she heard that Chris Pike was coming into town to show some of the first year students the new flagship being built, she put in a call.

Captain Pike's response was heavy with skepticism. “Winona, do you know what it would take to get someone with a record like that into Starfleet? They'd look down on him if he didn't wash his hands after taking a shit, and Jim's got a rap sheet two kilometers long.”

“Chris, I don't care what you have to do." Winona made it sound like a command. In truth, she was begging. "When you leave here, I want Jim on that shuttle.”

“I don't know about this, 'Nona. If he screws up, it'll be my head on the chopping block.”

“He's destroying himself here, Chris. Every time the phone rings I'm afraid it's gonna be the morgue on the other end.”

A long-suffering sigh came over the comm, and Winona knew she'd won.

“All right, I'll see what I can do.”

  
**four  
**  
Her baby was captain of the Fleet's newest flagship.

At 25.

What the hell had Chris been thinking?

Sending her Jim out on a five-year mission gallivanting out among the stars, getting into who knows what kind of trouble—because if she knew her son (and she did) there was bound to be trouble.

Shaking her head, she put another three boxes of condoms into the care package she planned to send him.

  
**five  
**  
If there was one thing Jim would always be, it was talkative. So when she received a tersely worded message from him about Spock's death, she worried. At 77, she dug up her old outdated uniform, polished her insignia pin, and bluffed her way past security to the docking bay where his shuttle was scheduled to touch down. She hauled him off to where her hovercar was parked before the brass had time to interrogate him; the stubborn set of her chin promising no uncertain misery for anyone who stood in her way.

Later that night, she sat in her living room with Jim on the couch beside her, holding him close as he poured out his grief onto her shoulder.

  
**…and one.  
**  
Jim wondered if his mother had felt this same desperate protectiveness the first time she held him, frail and weak and unable to defend himself. He hated the nursing home he had been forced to put her in. But the schedule of hypos and treatments she was currently on was more than he could keep up with unless he retired from Starfleet, something she had protested quite vocally.

Eyes still snapping with intelligence were framed by the soft white nebula of her hair. Her breath rattled hollow in her lungs with each shallow breath she took. Some days, she didn't have the energy to open her eyes.

“Tell me again about how you went back in time to get those whales, Jimmy.” Her voice was so faint, he had to lean in close to hear her.

“Ma, that's a pretty long story, and I know you're tired--”

“Last time I checked, I was still your mother and your superior officer to boot, _Captain_. Don't make me order you.”

Jim laughed. “Well, we were returning to face court martial in that Klingon Bird of Prey we had commandeered...”

The corners of Winona's mouth turned up into a smile. Her Jimmy was a good boy. A good boy indeed.********

  



End file.
